


Kleptai

by Pseudonaut



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Drabble, F/M, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Consensual Spanking, One Shot, Post-Canon, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-04 06:37:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10985424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pseudonaut/pseuds/Pseudonaut
Summary: With such high power it's wise to keep your cards stacked and friends nearby. But with the complications of Rhys' friend being a dyed-in-the-wool thief, then betrayal will arise. And when Fiona's eye wander to valuables not fit for her gaze, the CEO of Atlas decides the con artist is in need of punishment.





	Kleptai

**Author's Note:**

> Don't usually write this kind of stuff but I guess I wanted a challenge. Not heavy smut. Decided to keep any actual sex off my Ao3 and instead in my prompts or drabbles tag on my Tumblr. So there's no real sex, sorry. I used non-con as a warning just to be safe, it's not heavily unconventional just unexpected.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> -
> 
> Tumblr: ao3-pseudonaut.tumblr.com

 

 

 

* * *

  

 

 

 

Work really did fit it's own definition. Between the tedium of a pen's ink painted tip scratching against formal paper came a disgruntled sigh scratching from a low tired voice. Followed by another, from a different source, a whine of boredom that carried much more weight than the one that preceded it. Rhys looked up at Fiona from his desk as she extended her arms out wide to stretch.

 

He leaned back in his chair, the back rest creaking and adjusting to his weight as he did. Observing her same-old ragged attire, her hands now grudgingly against her hips. Probably processing a witting conversation starter like a super-computer at the same lightning-fast speed he calculated his words.

But the CEO knew too well that was because both of their lines of work involved closing a deal and running home with as much money as their pockets could hold without ripping at the seams.

"Must be super tiring sitting on my two-hundred grand desk and watching me work, huh?" He teased, lighthearted but clearly masking contempt between his genuine fatigue and not her boredom.

Her brow raised, standing up quickly and running her hands over her makeshift sitting appliance. "Two-hundred grand?" Fiona repeated his words in disbelief.

"It's an antique." Rhys replied with some smugness, rolling his pen across the work surface. "Well. I sure hope it is..." He chuckled uncertainly.

Laughing a bit herself, Fiona's now narrowing gaze was filling the tall room, a dim orange glow from ATLAS machinery sparkling across the whites of the woman's eyes. If the desk she was inadvertently polishing costed that much, there must have been all kinds of treasures here. In theory. Fiona had sights for the green goods produced, not the merchandise itself. 

Standing, she slowly started along the perimeter of the room, noticing her voice echo with each misplaced step further to the middle.

"How much would you say everything here costs all together?" Fiona asked as she waltz passed pictures, gadgets and gizmos. It was as stunning as the armory they first found Gortys in. Thoughts that never made her feel warmer. Surrounded by friends, catching some resemblance of break for once in their lives.

"Too much." Rhys replied, serious in tone. "Most of it was in the facility when I got here. Dangerous and lost to history. Sure does make my office look nice, though."

The thief began nodding halfheartedly in agreement, a part of her knowing he was too busy or too tired to even acknowledge her doing so. But as words warped around her that barley managed to reach her ears past the space she now made between her and the desk, she spotted something. She could easily place a gloved finger on why it stood out to her.

It was a shimmering revolver, clearly empty for display with the Crimson Lance logo carved into it. The bulky firearm sat on a pedestal to the far right of the office. Sunlight from the windows mingling with a pearlescent holding the glow of orange lights dotting the cylinder like eyes that fitted the purple decor of the rest of her companion's workplace.

She flicked the antenna protruding from the back of the helmet with her right hand, earning an audible wobble that garnered a look of bemusement from Rhys. Fiona grinned sheepishly back at him, the matching brightness of her eyes soon locked back onto the genuine artifact in front of her. It was a Royal Guard's without a doubt.

Not even the desert rays could cloud her view of such a rarity not seen since the PMCs occupation. People would pay handsomely just to scratch out the insignia. Fingers now slowly traced methodically down the pristine relic, her blue painted nails just close enough to wear against the cool metal of the barrel.

It looked heavy, Able to be carried, but heavy. But in Fiona's experience, heavier things tend to be more expensive. Like a sack of paper money. Or two sacks of paper money. She retracted her hands, positioning herself so she rested against the window, blocking any potential view of the gun she was about to slowly slip into her jacket.

"It's nice seeing you again, Rhys."

He smiled, not looking back from his writing. "Likewise." 

"... But I think I'm gonna head off, though." She continued. 

His pen stopped suddenly, head moving up towards her, brow lowered slightly. She couldn't place if he looked relieved or disappointed.

"Oh." Rhys said simply, blinking a few times as if he had something in his eye. "I just-" He rubbed his real hand over his face. "Thought you'd be a good distraction."

Fiona tittered, "Tired? Need a break?" She asked as her hands moved behind her back, clutching at the weapon on it's stand.

"Stressed is more like it. Makes me wonder if this is all worth it."

The heat from the sun was finally getting too her, and she'd much rather get into the cool shade than perpetuate this conversation. "Just. Hang in there. This is just next-level pencil pushing, right?"

Her footsteps were silent as she side stepped away from the empty display, waiting on him to look back down so she can say goodbye and just turn away. Fiona didn't want to be judged for falling back into old habits, even if she managed to dumbfound him. But as he continued to look groggily in her general direction she knew that it wasn't about to happen.

"What are you doing?" Rhys bit out behind a laugh and a small grin, slowly standing.

"Hm?" Fiona feigned stupidity past her now pursed lips, her new loot likely to be noticeably missing.

"I know you've been here awhile but you're kind of going outta the blue... And now you're walking like a crab."

"I-I'm just getting out the sun. That's all."

"Really?"

He sounded -- ruthless. The one question made Fiona quiver. His hands now clenching one another as elbows raised him from his desk. But even as he moved that malicious smile wasn't going anywhere. It was the judgement she was worried about. And even if she wanted to put the stupid gun back, it was too late. Fiona's mouth just gawked slightly, trying to think of a reply other than 'yes'.

Standing fully and walking towards her, Rhys started to examine the room much like she did unbeknownst to him. "Did you do something?"

"What?" She blurted out as she took a step away from the man that practically towered over her.

"Fiona, I really don't have time for this, if you, like, broke something, I'd rather you just tell me." Rhys said bitterly as he looked down to see her arms tucked behind her. His squinted eyes moved to the empty stand and back to her. "What's behind you, Fiona?"

No matter what she said, she could just tell that something bad was going to happen. "Nothing." The grown woman sounded petrified at this point. Lips quivering uncontrollably. She didn't want to loose a friend.

"Why are you shaking?"

"Because you're scaring me, Rhys..." She whined quietly.

"And why am I scaring you?" He asked, already knowing the answer, his robotic hand reaching behind his friend, causing her to jolt away and drop the heavy gun with a loud smash against the floor.

They both jumped in unison at first from clashing of metal and thud of the grip, and then from the bang the gun produced as it fired. It rang in their ears as a painting to the left of the room exploded on impact, the colorful canvas spraying the impact zone like confetti. The large caliber bullet stuck in the wall like the lump in Fiona's throat. It was loaded after all.

Rhys began breathing slow and hard through his nostrils, pinching the bridge of his nose with his real hand. Fiona buckled up, stiff as a board, hairs still standing on edge among other clichés.

"I-I-I'm so sorry!" Fiona babbled, her arms practically creaked as her hands mimicked a choir boy's at vestry.

He was stunned for awhile, back turned to her like a disappointed parent. "For which part? The fact you were planning on stealing from me or decades old painting you just ruined along side the gun that's worth more than your life?"

She tried to hold some composure of her stoic self. Being so still she could hear her blood flow was better than breaking down over the friendship she had undoubtedly ruined in her eyes. "Both-"

"-See, I find that really hard to believe; if you were sorry you wouldn't have even attempted trying to steal from me before even saying 'goodbye'!"

"I didn't think you'd notice-"

"So you think I'm stupid?" He cut her off again.

"I didn't say that!" She barked back, her tone gaining some strength again.

"Reckon you thought of it though!.." Rhys sang as he further closed the gap between them. "I reckon that anyone else would the last thing on the mind of a child who is somehow as self-aware as they are sane and as selfish as they aren't caring."  

Fiona looked awestruck at this side of her friend unlocked. "...Why are you being such a dick?"

"Why am I being such a dick?!" He yelled back at the woman, causing her to flinch and squeeze her eyes shut.

She exhaled, her face pale and sickly looking. She turned to leave, not knowing what else to do before he grabbed her right wrist with a strong robotic grip. Fiona was forced to move back to his stern wince locking with her own that had formed. Her free hand now attempted to pry the fingers from her sleeve he held like a vice.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Fiona yelled, almost ready to kick him. 

"You really think you can just walk away after the shit you just pulled?" He bit back in quiet voice.

Something about his tone, his posture and this strength she hadn't seen in him before. It was raw, powerful. Titillating. But it still didn't change the fact it was directed towards her. And Fiona felt she'd much rather wallow in private from a botched heist than face up against whatever Rhys had planned for her. "Let. Go. Of. Me." 

The CEO started to move backwards until they were close to his desk, naturally taking her with him. She stumbled at first, but quickly put her feet firmly on the ground. His other hand was now gripping onto the front of his desk, ready to pull her towards him. Which is exactly what he did, with a single tug his metal arm was now wrapped around her waist.

"Rhys..." She stated simply, her face inches away from his looking down at her. And where, away from his eyes, she expected to see scorn mask his features, Fiona saw nothing but hurt along black, tired bags. So close she could kiss him.

His large but movable chair scratched along the floor as his foot dragged the heavy wood closer, and as he sat the smaller woman was forced to fall with him. Her hands gripped his knees in surprise before Rhys lifted her onto his lap with a huff,-- or tried to as Fiona squirmed under the weight of his fake arm clamping down onto the creases of her auburn jacket.

"Rhys!" Her repeated word was louder than before as her legs kicked while hands gripped the wood jutting from underneath that chair.

"What do you think happens next, Fiona?" His hand trailed up her manic legs as he cupped his friend's rear in his hand, moving up to grab the back of her white pants.

Composing herself she let her mouth hang open, a chuckle former behind the jitters. "You're going to punish me for wanting to play with your toys?" She replied, sarcastically, any attempts to struggle she made clearly in vain. Probably not helping his temper.

She felt her underwear peel away with the back of her attire as her friend pull down at her pants, painfully slow, until her bare skin was ready for him to knead and admire. His thumb trailing a warmth in a circle around her behind. Fiona could see him smiling in the corner of her vision. It was about as malicious as a puppy's reaction to a new toy. Though she supposed that was a disturbingly fitting narrative playing out in both their heads.

"I want to hear you say it." Rhys whispered, sending a now familiar shiver down her back that was luckily still covered.

"Say what?.." The seemingly helpless woman replied sheepishly as she pouted, nails scratching with anticipation against the bottom of his chair.

"Exactly what I'm about to do. Keeping in mind that you aren't exactly in a position to mock me or be sarcastic."

Fiona swallowed, "So... This is happening?"

"Can't talk your way outta this one..." He sang again.

"And what happens if I can take it?" She purred, likely coming off far more primal than she intended. As if her face wasn't filling with enough red pushing away the pale.

He simply gestured his eyes down to the buckle of his belt, knowing he had her attention. The rise and fall of her chest, the fast beating of her heart could all be felt against his lap and past layers of clothes. He felt powerful. And it was so fitting on his character.

Quickly, his hand drew back, moving forward and striking down on Fiona's ass, causing her to jump a bit and make a disgusted noise. Not the reaction he expected -- but he was just getting started. And another after another she finally started to hiss a wriggle like a rat in a cage.

With each slap the redder all of her exposed skin grew. Her hands gripping at her frilly sleeve, face flush with embarrassment, and bottom painted like the canvas she ruined. Perhaps that was submission talking. This cycle persisted until a thin film of sweat painted in a streak across his forehead, and delicate beads along the rim of a now furrowed brow.

Fiona's weight on him -- his tattered, half aching lap, his grip on her; motivation. For each shiver-sent slap that bounced along her bare, slowly rose tinting orbs of skin was testing Rhys' new found strength. Her wincing turned to half-satisfied cries booming behind her teeth biting onto her lips, eyes refusing to open.

 "I want you to call me daddy." Rhys ordered, managing to open them.

"...Y-You can't be serious." Fiona said, shaking her head, taking the short time to process the pain radiating from behind her. "Are you actually into that?"

"No." Rhys replied, surprisingly sounding less breathless than she did.

"But you just want to see if I'll do it..." She spoke in a low tone, clicking her tongue after the calculation.

He hummed in agreement, stroking her ass. "How else will I know you're sorry?"

"I'm just amazed you thought this through." Fiona laughed, cut off by another slap on her now crimsoning skin. "So, pencil pushing really helped flex those fingers, huh?" She bitterly teased, "Or was that the indoor golf set? Or the jerking off and thinking about me-" Her quip was cut by his hand moving off her behind and towards his belt.

"Okay, okay, okay!" She repeated, her nervous laugh unable to leave from the bizarre situation she found herself in. "Okay! I-I'll call you daddy, whatever, just...don't." 

Rhys studied her as he pulled at the silver buckle of his belt, earning a little, happy cry inside her mouth as the noise hit her eardrums. Fiona wasn't sure whether that was genuine fear or if she was actually turned on. Whatever amalgamation of emotions she felt, it was clearly doing something to her captor. Able to feel him very clearly while laying on his waist.

The feeling of real leather was nice against fingers that were tingling from constant impact with skin. He looped it, rubbing the makeshift whip across the behind he'd struck countless times this day. Rhys thought he spotted the semblance of a smile torn across the lips she bit down on still. For him that was a cue to strike, hitting the belt against her with all his remaining force, even making him grunt.

Slashing that filled the now humid air around them aroused them both, a new layer of red in marks appeared as if from nowhere along her flesh. And he made sure to cover as much of his new canvas as he could in these oh-so-sweetly excruciating reminders.

"Stop!" Fiona managed to yell. "I-I learnt my lesson... I've learnt my lesson. I'll never steal from you again. I'm sorry..." She groaned, exhausted and shortly hiding her face in her arms.

Raising and eyebrow, he dropped his belt on his lap beside her slumped over figure.

"Sorry?.." Rhys mocked, grinning.

She opted to lean an arm on the side of the chair, resting her chin on her palm and sighing. "I'm sorry...daddy." 

He stroked the wounds he made, leaning back yet again. "Good girl."

**Author's Note:**

> Fiona stole some booty so Rhys got some in return.  
> I'm sorry, that was awful. Hope you liked the work though.
> 
> -
> 
> Tumblr: ao3-pseudonaut.tumblr.com


End file.
